


Various Boomer Drabbles

by EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash



Category: Suicide Squad (2016)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-20
Updated: 2018-01-19
Packaged: 2019-02-17 09:58:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 12
Words: 8,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13074489
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash/pseuds/EqualsTrashFlavoredTrash
Summary: Drabbles and blurbs, often written to fill requests and prompts on tumblr. each chp is stand alone (unless otherwise stated)





	1. Chapter 1

> _49 - “Well this is awkward…”_

* * *

“Damn son,” I stated as I circled the large living room, running my hand along the back of the plush couch, “This place is snazzy as fuck.”

“Glad yeh approve, darlin’,” the gruff aussie stated as he clicked on the lights and crossed the room to where I stood. I had no idea why he had taken an interest in me at the bar, but once I was in his gaze I couldn’t shake him. After about fifteen minutes of him bugging me I finally gave in and said ‘Hi’. Turns out that while he may look like a dirty bum, he actually has a voice that makes my knees stop working.

Back at the bar, I laughed in his face when he said he was rich and had a penthouse, but here I stood wiggling my toes in the perfectly white carpet as he grabbed at my waist, pulling me closer. I tried to return his excitement as he kissed me with force and pawed at my skirt. I was sure that I’d be waking up with lot of bruises.

He grabbed my bottom as I wrapped my legs around his waist and he stumbled to the bedroom. I fell from his hands onto the bed, watching as he tore off his shirt and undid his belt buckle before he grew impatient and moved forward, laying a bruising kiss on my mouth as he groped my breasts through the material of my dress. He frantically tore at my clothing, tugging the dress over my head so I laid beneath him in my underwear.

I took a deep breath as I watched him unearth his erection from his jeans. He grinned at me, pulling my underwear away as he spit into his palm, stroking his length. Positioning himself between my legs, he bit my bottom lip before entering me with a violent thrust.

I revelled in the sounds of his groans, moving my hips along with his as we wrestled on the soft bedding. I leaned forward, biting at his neck as he pumped his body against mine.

Then the lights turned on.

The pair of us froze, our heads snapping toward the door. There stood a well dressed elderly couple.

“What the hell is going on!” The man shouted as I looked back at Boomer.

“What the fuck!” I screamed pushing him away, “You said you lived here!”

“He very well does not,” The woman stated, stepping forward as her husband grabbed her arm pulling her back.

“Well this is awkward…” Boomer stated as he looked between each of us, still buried up to his hips in me.


	2. Chapter 2

> _38 - “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”_

* * *

 

You regretted going out the moment you stepped out the door, but you knew how much this meant to your best friend. You don’t know why she chose to join a sorority but you stuck to the promise  you both made when you were nine to support each other no matter what. You trudge your way up the gravel path to the hall they rented. It was the floor above a grimy dive bar and you wondered if some of the patrons would inadvertently be attending.

Once inside you couldn’t help but noticed that it smelt distinctly of old gym socks. Why did she want to join this house again?

You crossed the room, rubbing your temple. You had been plagued by this latent headache all day and this thumping bass was not helping.

“Hey!” You yelled once you were behind your friend. She spun linking her arms around you, squeezing you tightly.

“This is Digger and Tucker,” she spoke into your ear as she pulled back gesturing to the two men she was talking with. You looked them over out of the corner of your eye, they both look like they had snuck into the crowd from downstairs.

“Are you sure you should be talking to them?” You asked her, grabbing your head as there was another pang of pain through your skull.

“Yes I am,” she insisted as she shoved a beer bottle into your hand and turned to talk to the man she had called tucker. You stood there awkwardly next to her sipping at you beer.

“How yeh doin’, doll?” Tucker’s friend finally asked, nudging you with his elbow.

“Listen I’m sure you’re a great guy and all, but I’m not here to meet anyone,” You stated looking at him before flinching at another stroke of pain through your head. The beer bottle slipped from your fingers as you blanked. Your vision went black as you limbs gave way, folding under your weight. You could feel as you fell into something solid.

“You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes,” Digger stated with a smirk as he held you, supporting your limp figure against his chest.

“Shut up!” You shot at him, trying to right yourself, “I’ve just been studying too much, all I need is to rest and relax,” you said, fumbling and trying to pull away as his grip on your hip grew.

“I can help yeh relax,” he growled, leaning into your ear.

You couldn’t help but blush, drunkenly tempted by his offer. 


	3. Chapter 3

> _32 - “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”_

* * *

Everyone will have a moment in their life where they realise they must accept. They meet someone that they have to give into or risk living their life regretting the decision. For me this pivotal moment was personified in an Australian felon who was drinking next to me one fateful night.

We had both had awful days, I’d lost my job and something he’d been contracted for fell through, he did not go into detail, but we commiserated together and did shots, talking about how much we hated existence.

By last call Digger and I were stuck together like glue. We kissed and grabbed at each other as we stumbled back to my apartment. I clung to him with my arms and legs as he made his way through my apartment, eventually falling back as we reached my bed.

Excitedly I pulled at his shirt, hastily pulling his jacket and tank top over his head. Meanwhile he gripped at my hips, pushing my center down harder against the tent in his pants. I couldn’t hold back my the moan as I wiggled my bottom. I gave way to him, following his lead as he took control. While my memories of what exactly happened that night are pretty blurry, I’ll never forget it.

I woke up content, curled against his warm body. He snored as I sat up, stretching and pulling on a random discarded shirt from the floor. I went to the kitchen and pulled out the fixings for my favorite breakfast. I mixed the batter as I swayed to the music I played, periodically checking the bacon as it cooked in the pan.

“If you change your mind, I’m the first in line,” I sang as I poured the batter into the waffle iron, swinging my hips and clicking the iron shut, “Honey I’m still free, take a chance on me.”

I danced as I continued to cook, working my way through the batter and ABBA discography. I was just about finished when my male guest began to stir.

“It smells fuckin’ fantastic in here,” he growled into my ear, resting his hands on my hip as he pushed his morning wood against my bottom.

“I don’t have time for that, now it’ll have to wait,” I stated with authority as I moved the waffle from the iron on to the plate, setting it on the table. He eagerly moved from me to the chair, grabbing a knife and fork as I set the plate of bacon next to him.

“Dig in, Digger,” I stated before turning to prepare my own plate. I was surprised as he shoved his chair away from the table and pulled me into his lap.

“I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified,” he pronounced, kissing at my neck.

“Why because I made you waffles?” I joked as I tried to pull away from him and get back to my food.

“Yes, exactly,” he growled, getting my attention by biting at the skin over my pulse point. Suddenly I found that there was no where I’d rather be than sitting in his lap, even if it meant my breakfast was getting cold. 


	4. Chapter 4

> _25 - “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”_
> 
> _35 - “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”_

* * *

You could barely contain your excitement as you lead Boomer down the dirt path by the hand. It was a bright night as you weaved your way in the moonlight. You knew how to get there by heart and could do it blindfolded.

“I can’t believe yeh talked me inta this,” the man muttered as he reluctantly followed you.

“What, you scared of some ghosts?” You teased, turning to look at him. The glow of the full moon above you cast long shadows across his face. You took another turn as you continued to lead him. 

The graveyard wasn’t more than a block from your apartment and you spent half your free time smoking and reading in the grass, curled next to your favorite tombstone. You’d been fascinated with cemeteries since you were a child but you’d grown attached to this one after coming here everyday for almost three years.

“I don’t know how you can live near that place,” Boomer stated earlier that evening as he looked out the kitchen window. While it wasn’t your first time spending the night with him, it was his first time in your apartment. “Let’s go to the bedroom,” he mumbled as he turned, leaning in to kiss you.

“No,” you declared, pushing away from him, “I’ve got a better idea,” quickly you turned on your heel to grab your boots.

And now here you were. Once the pair of you approached your favorite granite grave marker, you spun around, backing against the obelisk and pulling him closer by his shirt collar. He grabbed at your thighs, bringing your legs around his waist and pinning you against the cold stone. He held you, grinding his hips against yours as you swallowed his moans and clawed at his broad shoulders.

You pulled away, forcing him to take a step back as you moved to stand in the grass. With one motion you grabbed at your simple black dress, tugging the frock over your head.

“Have yeh not been wearin knickers this whole time?” Boomer questioned as he hungrily studied your nude form. You could just barely see his eyes in the dim light, but you could tell his pupils were blown.

“Come on, get naked,” you urged him, laying down on top of the discarded cloth over the grass.

“Yeh really want me to strip down at two am in the middle of a graveyard?” He asked still not sold on the idea.

“You heard me. Take. It. Off.” you commanded with a grin. 


	5. Chapter 5

> _8 - “Wanna bet?”_
> 
> _30 - “It’s not what it looks like…”_

* * *

You grinned, biting your lip as you watched the hairy, bulky man twirl in your favorite frock. The dress was vintage, covered in lace and frills. It was your lucky outfit, everything seemed to go your way when you wore it, and tonight did not fail to disappoint.

“No way I’d look as good as you in this,” The gruff Australian purred as he stood close, boxing you in against the bar, fiddling with the ribbon on the front of your dress.

“Wanna bet?” you challenged, smirking at him as he quirked his eyebrow.

Now you bounced in your seat on his bed as you looked at him. You wore his blue jacket, muffling you giggles with the cuffs as you held your hands to your face. The dress barely fit around his shoulders, the undone zipper beautifully exposed his back. The gold chains around his neck actually complemented the ensemble in a weird way.

“Come here,” You said, looking at him through your lashes as you shifted, leaning back onto the mattress. You could see the light glint off his gold tooth as he grinned, looking like he wanted to eat you whole. He pulled up the skirt of the dress as he moved, climbing onto the bed.

“Will you please shut up,” a new voice spoke as the door creaked open, “Some of us are trying to sle—,” in the doorway stood a tall man, bald except for his beard, shirtless in plaid pajama pants.

Boomer’s head snapped to the side to side so fast you were sure he’d get whiplash. “It’s not what it looks like…” he shot daggers at the intruding roommate who studied the pair of you on the bed, specifically Boomer’s outfit.

“I’m just gunna,” Floyd started, gesturing over his shoulder, “I’m just gunna go,”

“Get out,” Boomer barked and the door clicked shut. He turned his attention back to you. You no longer could hold it together and burst out laughing in his face. You tried to calm down but you couldn’t help but giggle as his hands tickled at your sides.


	6. Chapter 6

> _16 - “It could be worse.”_

* * *

“Yeh been avoiding me,” a gruff voice whispered into my ear. I immediately froze, remembering what happened last time I let him get this close to me. He leaned forward on the back my chair, placing his hands on the armrests.

“No I haven’t,” I hissed back, using every bit of self control to keep my eyes trained forward on my notes as his facial hair tickled the lip of my ear.

“Then how come everytime I come ta call, yer nowhere to be found?” he pressed as I fought to keep my breathing even in response to the low vibrato of his voice as it hummed against my skin. I didn’t have to look at him to know his eyes were hooded. He was pulling all the stops, pressing every one of my buttons.

“I-I’ve been busy,” I faltered under his attention. I gripped at my pen keeping my eyes forward as he nipped at my neck, “I need to focus,” I insisted, “I have a big final coming up. How did you even get in here anyway? Only students are allowed in the library.”

“I can get inta anywhere I want,” his annoyance with my behavior dripped from his voice, “Even yer pants,” he insisted as his hand slid from the armrest to my thigh.

“Stop,” I pleaded, grabbing at his hand as it slid up the cotton of my pants, “I need to focus,” I clenched my eyes shut, avoiding turning to face him. I knew once I looked at him I’d be putty in hands. Quickly, he moved his palm from my lap reaching for my textbook.

“What’s so important about this anyway?” He grumbled flipping through the pages, walking away down the line of study desks to the stacks.

“Boomer!” I hissed at his retreating form. I jumped up to chase him before back tracking to gather my computer and notebooks in my pack. By the time I threw the strap over my shoulder I had lost sight of him. I hurried down the aisles of dusty books calling his name in a stage whisper. Eventually something caught my eye. The door to the janitor’s closet was left ajar.

“Boomer, give me my bo—,” I began to demand as I pushed the door open wider before being cut off by his arms reaching from the darkness to my waist. He swung me around like a rag doll, pressing my front against the back of the door as it slammed shut. I fought back my moans as he trailed his nose up my neck, nipping at my earlobe and pushing himself against my back.

With all my strength, I pressed my hands flat on the door, pushing myself back against him. He stumbled away a half step as my hands darted to the door handle. I jerked the metal bar up and down but it wouldn’t budge. I could hear Boomer chuckle behind me as I finally turned around to face him.

“Could be worse,” he chided with a smirk.

“Really? How?” I shot back, crossing my arms and keeping my eyes down as my pupils adjusted to the low light.

“You could be stuck in here with someone who doesn’t know how ta pick locks,” he replied with a grin as he moved closer, pushing me back against the door.

“Then why don’t you?” I asked finally looking up at his stupid face.

“Don’t wanna,” he stated, leaning forward biting at my bottom lip 


	7. Chapter 7

> _27\. “I’m Pregant”_

* * *

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” She stopped in her tracks, letting out a loud groan in reaction to the sight of the man sitting on her building’s stoop. She had been sure when he left he was gone forever, but now here he was, lounging on the granite steps, obviously waiting for her. Clenching her jaw, she kept her head down and moved forward, hoping she could get past him before he realized anything. Her plan didn’t work. **  
**

“Long time no see,” the man grinned as he quickly stood in front of her, his large frame blocking her way up the stairs. Nothing about his appearance had changed. He still wore the same old jackets and ducttaped boots as he had before. Even his facial hair was the same, a messily shaved set of crooked muttonchops.

“What are you doing here Digger?” she asked, shifting her weight, hoping to try and get by him, though she knew there was no way in her current state she’d be able to squeeze through the gap.

“I was in town and thought we could catch up,” he grinned as she scowled, “Y’know, go up stairs, have some beer and a chat.”

“There’s no beer in my apartment,” she retorted, quickly shooting down his idea.

“How about some coffee then?” he countered with a quirk of his eyebrow.

“You know I don’t drink coffee.” She rolled her eyes while shifting her stance to relieve some of the pain in her feet.

“Fine, then a cold glass a watah.”

“You’re not going to leave me alone until I agree, are you?” she quipped, familiar with Digger’s tactics.

“Nope.”

Slowly she made her way up the stairwell to her apartment while he followed close behind. Once inside, she set down the grocery bags and shrugged off her coat. When she turned around to hang it on the hook, Digger finally got a good look at her without the cover of the puffy down jacket.

“Oi, yeh smuggling beach balls around now?” he questioned, unable to take his eyes off her swollen belly.

“No, Digger,” she scoffed, resting a hand on the counter as the other instinctively wrapped around her middle. “I’m pregnant.”

He was quiet for a minute as he eyed her stomach. She couldn’t quite read his expression and wondered what was going through his mind.

“Who’s the Dad then?” He finally asked, looking up to her face while trying to count in his head just how long it’d been since he saw her last. With another roll of her eyes, she turned around reaching to open a cupboard, and grabbing a glass from the shelf.

“Nobody you know,” she remarked, speaking over her shoulder while holding the cup under the faucet. “Or I know for that matter.” Turning around with the glass of water she spied his confused expression. “It was an anonymous donor. I’m a surrogate mom for a couple who I’m friends with and can’t have kids of their own.”

Digger chewed on his lip, considering the information, “When yeh due?”

“Six weeks,” she replied holding the glass out to him. “Here, some water like you asked.”

“Who’s taken care o’ yeh?” His question surprised her as he took the glass and gulped down the water.

“I am, same as always.” Crossing her arms over her belly and narrowing her eyes, she studied the man in front of her, “Why do you care?”

“I know I ain’t the domestic type, but I bet yeh could use a hand since yer in such a state,” he smirked as he spoke, buttering her up before revealing his true intentions. “And I need somewhere to crash for a while.”

“Thanks, but no thanks. I’m doing fine on my own.”

Never being one to take a ‘no’ sitting down, Digger reached across the counter, grabbing her keys and tossing them on the floor. “Pick those up,” he instructed as he kept eye contact. She didn’t even have to look down to know that she wouldn’t be able to reach the ring of keys. There was a tense moment of silence between them before she replied.

“Fuck you,” she grumbled, admitting defeat. “You’re sleeping on the couch and don’t even think of trying anything.”

The first week together had been a total success by Digger’s standards, but his host did not agree. He had spent day in and day out laying on the couch in his boxers watching ESPN while throwing back countless beers, only ever rising from his seat to use the bathroom or run to the store for more booze. It wasn’t long until he felt the unbridled wrath of the woman whose hormones were in a constant state of flux.

After that first shouting fest, Digger very quickly began to pull his weight, taking care of the list of chores she gave him every morning before she left for work. Soon after that she began to warm up to him much more. Even if he wasn’t that great of a chef, it was always a wonderful experience for her to come home to a hot dinner that catered to her weird cravings.

While Digger enjoyed playing house, she found herself in turmoil. Due to the aforementioned hormonal changes whenever she looked at him all she could think about was how bad she wanted to sit on his dick. His recent change in behavior, being more considerate and caring didn’t help. At the most inconvenient moments her mind would drift off, recalling the last time he’d visited and they shared a bed. She could still hear the way he groaned as he pinned her to the mattress before thrusting into her with a hard jerk of his hips.

“Yeh hear what I said?” Digger asked, pulling her back to reality. With a quick shake of her head she tried to clear the dirty thoughts from her mind as she sat on the couch, but looking up at him, dripping wet and naked save for the bath towel he held around his waist, she remembered why she’d gotten distracted in the first place. “Yer out o’ soap,” he repeated, smiling to himself as he watched they way she eyed his torso, her gaze drifting lower to his hips.

She fought herself, trying to quell the sexual thoughts that now plagued her every day. Sure that she could resist him, she tried to keep her guard up as he slowly grew more flirtatious, pushing the boundaries with small acts like pinching her bottom as he walked by, or knowingly blowing on her ear when they sat on the couch together.  

Laying in the small nest of pillows on her bed, she was trying to relax and fall asleep when she felt the mattress shift. “Digger, get out,” she hissed without looking to see who it was climbing under the covers. She was actually surprised he had waited this long before attempting something like joining her in bed.

“Come on darl,” he pleaded pulling up close behind her so she could feel his body heat against her back as his arm snaked its way along her side. “Yeh couch is too small, it’s givin’ me back problems.”

“I don’t care,” she replied trying to fight the excitement she felt as his fingers gently trailed along her skin, stopping just before reaching her breast. “I want you out of my bed.”

“I always thought you liked having me in your bed,” he retorted, moving his face in so his chops tickled her shoulder while his breath ghosted past her ear, making her shiver. “You were eager for me to join you last time.”

Suddenly Digger shifted, pushing his thigh between her legs. She let out a surprised moan at the contact, involuntarily shifting her hips against him while his hand moved to cup her breast. “Yer tits have gotten so big,” he murmured while teasing her overly sensitive nipple before biting at the skin of her neck, eliciting a moan from her throat.

“Digger, stop,” she whined as he kissed her tender skin, soothing the bite mark, “I’m tired, I need to sleep.” She tried to persuade him to back off but he did the opposite, continuing to grind his hips against her.

“Can’t yeh feel how hard I am for yeh?” he asked, referring to his obvious erection that’d been poking the small of her back since he’d joined her.

The truth was that she wanted nothing more that to roll over, climb on top of Digger and ride him into the morning but she was so exhausted from being on her feet all day at work that she could barely lift a finger.

“You can stay in my bed, just let me sleep,” she bargained, hoping he’d compromise.

“Fine,” he conceded with an annoyed sigh, making no effort to move away, continuing to keep his hand cupped around her breast with his leg pressed against her wet core. “We can pick up where we left off in the morning.”

She didn’t want to admit how much of a difference sleeping next to Digger made. She’d wake up every morning feeling rested and chipper curled against his side, her belly supported by his middle.

It wasn’t long until they fell into a happy routine as the last few weeks of her pregnancy progressed, easily living together and enjoying the other’s company. There were still a few moments where she’d become an emotional wreck, freaking out about something miniscule or mundane like when he’d drink the last of her favorite juice. At first Digger tried to wait out her tantrums, knowing they would pass, but he was quick to learn that the best solution was for him to leave the apartment, giving her a few hours alone.

One evening the pair sat curled up on the couch watching something mindless on tv. Digger lounged along the armrest with his opposite arm wrapped around her shoulders as she sat, curled against him, her feet propped up on the coffee table.  

“Gods, I swear this little thing has been using my bladder as a trampoline,” she groaned shifting to stand up. As she moved a wave of nausea washed over her before there was a sharp pain in her abdomen. Clutching at her stomach she winced, abruptly sitting back down. Digger was taken by surprise, quickly sitting up to ask what was wrong and what he could do to help.

“Nothing, nothing,” she managed to inform him with a wave of her hand between gasps of pain, “I read there’s supposed to be–uhg– ghost contractions before hand.” She tried to explain the situation as she bent forward clinging to her belly and taking deep breaths. Digger was not pacified by her words and continued to panic that the baby was actually coming. Even after the cramps subsided, and for days after, he still found himself on edge at thought that she could go into labor at any minute. Unfortunately, he was not around when it finally happened.

She had gone into one of her moody triades and Digger didn’t even try to put up a fight knowing the attempt was futile. He just grabbed his jacket and left without a word to go spend some time at the nearest dive bar. When he returned to the apartment in the early hours of the morning he found both she and her emergency overnight bag were missing. Immediately he turned around and headed to the hospital.

It took Digger a few minutes to convince the nurses he was kin but eventually he managed to, hurrying down the hall to her designated room. She was fast asleep on the hospital bed when he entered. Obviously Digger had missed all the excitement of the birth. Not wanting to disturb her slumber he turned to go find the nursery, curious to see the child.

Standing at the window, he studied the handful of bassinets that held the small sleeping babies, looking like larva rolled up tight in their cocoons made from soft blankets. He wasn’t able to tell any of the children apart, not sure which one was her’s, until he noticed the tag next to one that said ‘Baby Girl Watkins’.

“Isn’t she precious?” the man standing near Digger cooed to his partner beside him while pointing at the same bundle Digger had been studying.

Clearing his throat, Digger turned to look at the pair before asking, “Are you the blokes adopting her?” The men seemed taken aback by his question at first before Digger clarified that he was friends with the mother.

“Digger?” the shorter of the two men asked as they shook hands after he introduced himself. “So you’re the father then?” The pair beamed, smiling brightly though Digger was confused.

“She knew we’d been looking to adopt and reached out to us when she found out she was pregnant, mentioning once that was the father’s name,” the other man elaborated prompting the pieces in Digger’s mind fall into place. Everything he’d assumed was true even though she had insisted otherwise.

Disturbed from her slumber, the woman in the hospital bed rolled over to discover the source of the annoying noise was, of course, Digger. The large man sat in the chair beside her bed, his head craned back, leaving his mouth wide open as he snored. Reaching up, she grabbed at one of the many pillows tucked behind her and with a hard jerk of her arm, she lobbed the soft object at his face. With a sputter, Digger woke up.

“G’morning, how yeh feelin?” he greeted as he yawned, stretching out in his seat before tossing the pillow back onto the bed.

“Not too awful considering I pushed a baby out my vagina a few hours ago.” She shrugged, mimicking his yawn as she watched him. “How’d you manage to convince them to let you in?”

“Just said I was the fathah,” he explained, the expression in his eyes more serious than the teasing tone of his voice.

“I told you—,” she began before he cut her off.

“Don’t lie. I know the truth, the queers told me everything.”

She didn’t respond as she pursed her lips and avoided looking at him while mumbling, “Their names are Marc and Dre.”

“Why’d yeh say it was a donor?”

“Because that’s how I considered it,” she sighed, peering down at her hands instead of Digger. “You’d already taken off, like you always do, before I even knew I was pregnant. I didn’t want to bother you with the burden.”

“We coulda raised her togethah,” he suggested quietly.

“Don’t be naive,” she scoffed, finally lifting her head to meet his gaze. “She’ll be so much better off with two doting fathers that will cater to her every whim than some waitress and a criminal who can’t stay in one place for more than a weekend.”

“I’ve been here for six weeks now,” he stated as she realized his expression and composure were uncharacteristically tender.

“Digger,” she whispered, holding her palm out to him. He took her hand, standing as she tugged, urging him closer to the bedside. Reaching up with her other arm, she ran her fingers around his shoulder. He leaned forward in response, their lips meeting in a light kiss. “All I want is what’s best for her, and I don’t think that’s us.”

Digger seemed to accept her reasoning without answer, agreeing with her though he was still unhappy with the idea. Bending over he kissed her again, this time with more passion as he licked her lips. “So, when can we try again?” he asked, pulling back slightly to take a breath.

“Not until I’m on birth control,” she laughed as she sat up to capture his lips again.


	8. boomer r u ok?

 

 

>  
> 
> _Omg so I'm literally about to binge read all your stuff, BUT CAN I ASK FOR A CAPTAIN BOOMERANG WITH "you're so sexy when you're hot and bothered," like the bratty lil shit he is, I love him._

 

Digger never had a problem with waking up when he needed to, never oversleeping. The same could not be said about the woman curled up next to him underneath the bed covers. You laid there, with your arm wrapped tightly around his middle, clinging to him in your sleep. He attempted to release your grip cautiously, trying not to disturb you.

You woke up anyway. Feeling him shifting you held him tighter while twisting your leg around his.

“Luv, yeh gotta let me go,” he chuckled as you rested your head on his chest, pulling yourself closer still.

“No, stay here,” you mumbled, eyes still shut as you nuzzled against the blond hairs dusted across his abdomen, feeling the vibrations when he groaned.

“I need ta go ta work,” he reminded you. Lifting your chin, you finally looked at him, trying to give him the puppy-dog eyes you knew he always struggled to resist.

“Don’t go. Tell them it’s your birthday, tell them you’re working on us today.” You rolled over onto you back, pulling Boomer on top of you as you wrapped you legs around his waist, linking your feet behind him so his morning wood prodded at your center before whining, “Please, I need you.”

“Ya know I think it’s sexy when you’re hot and bothered like this.” You could hear the strain in his voice and knew that he was close to his breaking point, he only needed a little bit more persuading, “But i haf’ta go.”

“Would you rather be chasing after money when you could be home, playing with your honey?” you teased in a sing-song voice, wiggling your hips against his. “I haven’t seen you in ages and you only got home last night. You’re all work and no play. I think you need a holiday.”

Reaching around his shoulders you laced your finger into the curls on the back of his head before leaning forward to capture his lips with yours. You could feel the moment when he conceded, his body relaxing into yours as he reached for your breast and deepened the kiss, pushing his tongue past your smirk.

“Two birthdays a’year can’t hurt, eh?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the song Ali R U Ok by Mia https://youtu.be/nCo7ezPV2ho


	9. Chapter 9

> _Person A sends sexy selfie to the wrong number. B responds with a sexy selfie._

 

* * *

It was a drunken mistake, I should’ve known better. I threw my phone across the bed and rolled over groaning into my pillow. There was nothing I could do now, I had already hit send.

I had been drinking with my friends, telling them that the cute guy at the book shop I’d been flirting with had given me his number. They said that I should be bold, make a strong first move, insisting guys like that kind of thing. So I sent him a slightly provocative picture of myself. I wasn’t naked, it was just sort of my shirt sliding off my shoulder and ok, maybe I crossed my arms to increase my cleavage a little bit. He had first complimented me on my chest tattoo, so I thought that would give him a clue of who it was, since besides my lips, most of my face was cropped out.

It’s been forty minutes and no response. I knew I had ruined any chance I’d had. I knew it. I should’ve just messaged him with a normal ‘Hey what’s up?’ but no, I had to go and listen to Maddi. At some point I stopped mentally berating myself and drifted off to sleep.

Waking up I reached to the bedside table, blindly grabbing for my phone before I remembered that I had tossed it across the bed. Then I remembered why I had tossed it across the bed. With a groan I sat up and clicked the home button. I dismissed a few push messages from some apps that cluttered the screen so I could see that I had a new text message.

I hesitated before I poked the notification, completely unsure of the kind of response he’d sent. It took a second of the photo to load but then I found myself staring at a pink dick first thing in the morning. I’m not sure exactly what tipped me off that this was not the penis of the guy I’d been talking to. I think it was the fact that no way could someone with strawberry blonde pubes like that could also have dreadlocks on his head.

I quickly closed out of the picture and looked away, blushing at the thought of the stranger’s hand wrapped around his shaft stuck in my mind. I shook my head as I climbed out of bed chasing the thoughts away before I went about my day.

I tried to forget about the picture but day after day I would find myself curled up in bed alone, studying the image while half awake before drifting off to sleep, though I never responded. I don’t know why I couldn’t get this guy off my mind. I hadn’t even seen his face, he could’ve been busted up like he got run over and yet when I got bored at work I found myself imagining his hand rubbing along my inner thighs. I began to grow frustrated with how flustered I’d become with these thoughts. I needed to get away from it so I rang up my friend and we went out for the night.

I threw on my favorite strapless dress and some heels, then went out to meet up with Maddi. Time with her was always a vacation from reality. We could talk about anything, even the dick pic that was haunting me. Of course she insisted that I show it to her, so she could better assess the situation.

“Ok and so why did you not text back?” she asked with disbelief as she held my phone.

“I don’t know, I panicked,” I replied with a shrug. She gave a disapproving shake of her head as she handed my phone back. We continued to laugh and joke until our drinks ran low. I offered to get the next round, picking up the glasses and heading to the bar. As I stood waiting for the bartender to refill our drinks I was painfully aware of the stranger next to me leering at my chest.

“I like your tattoo,” He finally said with a thick accent.

“Oh, uh, thanks,” I mumbled as I paid the bartender, “It’s from a song,” I explained, referring to the lyrics that encircled the image of a ripe peach. Once i had the glasses in my hands, I was quick to turn around and head back to Maddi.

“Watch my drink I gotta go to the bathroom,” Maddi said, standing up to find the rest room. Her seat hadn’t been empty for two seconds before the stranger from the bar came and sat down next to me.

“Excuse me?” I asked, studying his hulking form under the thick trench coat. He had a few scratches and bruises on his face that looked only a day or two old, and when he grinned the light shined off of his gold front tooth. Though he was a bit scruffy and beat up, he wasn’t repulsive under the grime.

“It keeps bugging me ‘cus I’m sure I’d seen your tattoo before,” he began without introduction, “and I couldn’t put my finger on it for the life of me.”

“I’m not surprised,” I replied quickly, “I drew it myself, no one else has it,” as he dug into his coat pocket, pulling out a cellphone.

“But then I remembered something from a few weeks ago,” he continued poking at the screen on his phone before holding it up to me. I found myself looking at the picture of me tugging down the collar of my shirt, the peach on the center of my chest clearly visible. “That’s you innit?” he asked with a smirk.


	10. Chapter 10

> _ff of the Smut challenge list: 11: Cop/felon 13: Hallway 18: Sensual sex Capt. Boomerang_

* * *

Grasping his elbow, the police officer lead the burly and disheveled Aussie through a door marked ‘employees only’ and into the back hallways that snaked across the mall unseen by shoppers. The man’s boots squeaked on the tile as he stumbled along next to her, off balance due to the alcohol and having his hands tethered behind him.

The officer had been called in to deal with a drunk and disorderly patron of the mall, a routine arrest, but upon arrival she quickly recognized the public nuisance from the wanted posters in the station. He was easy enough to subdue and cuff thanks to his intoxication, and she was pleased as punch with her luck.

“I have to admit,” she began as they walked down the empty corridor, “You’re much more attractive in person. Your mugshots don’t do you justice.”

Boomer quirked his eyebrow, looking over his shoulder to the shorter woman. “Ay, yah think so?” He flashed his trademark, lopsided grin before halting and facing her. “How’s about this, if yeh think I’m so cute, I’ll do something for ya and then you can do something for me?” he bargained, leaning into her personal space while she continued to hold his arm. She stepped back, closer to the wall as he hung over her.

“And what do you think you can do for me?” Though an excitement leapt inside her at his proximity and suggestion, she played it cool, keeping her expression still.

“Sit on my face and I’ll show ya,” Boomer offered as he backed her up against the concrete wall, pressing his chest against hers before swooping in to capture her lips.

Running her palms along his arms, she returned his affections, leaning into him as she linked her arms around his neck. While tugging on his bottom lip, she made up her mind. How many hundreds of times had she heard her male colleagues brag about getting head from the women they arrested?

“Okay,” she agreed in a breathy voice. Boomer seemed almost surprised as he pulled back.

“Alight, undo me hands and I’ll show you a proper good time,” he smirked, confident until she began to laugh.

His face dropped as she shook her head, “No way I’m letting you out those cuffs. You don’t need your hands to eat me out.” Boomer looked sour as she squeezed his shoulders, “Well? On your knees.” He did as he was told and dropped down while she began to undo her heavy belt and the fly to her navy blue uniform trousers. Wetting his lips, he watched eagerly as she lowered her panties and reached forward, gently running her fingers through the hair on the top of his head.

Leaning forward, he kissed at the skin of her thigh just above her knee, the scratchiness of his facial hair contrasting with the moist texture of his soft lips in the most pleasant way. The officer shivered with each touch, slowly lifting her leg to rest on his shoulder as he nipped his way along her inner thigh, closer to her apex.

She couldn’t hold back her voice as he pulled at the lips of her vulva before taking a long swipe with his tongue. She shuddered both from the stimuli of his tongue circling her clit and the feeling of power over him. Digging her nails into his scalp, she pulled at his hair, urging him to continue. Boomer gave it his all, pulling out every trick he knew as he swirled his tongue, teasing her entrance while pressing his nose against her clit.  

Feeling her legs tense, Boomer could tell she was close to her end, and with a final hard pull on her clit she unravelled around him. He continued lapping at her center with long slow movements as her knees shook. He didn’t stop until she finally yanked on the curls at the crown of his head, jerking his face away while she dropped her foot and steadied herself on shaky legs.

“How’s that for yah?” Boomer asked with smirk as he sat back on his heels, watching her gather up her discarded clothing and redress.

“Not bad,” she retorted with a shrug, zipping her fly as he maneuvered to stand up.

“Okay, now undo me hands,” he ordered, only to receive a surprised look from the officer as she smoothed out her top, making sure every bit was tucked into the waistband.

“You’re kidding, right?” she chuckled before grabbing his elbow and urging him forward down the hallway. “You asked for a favor but you didn’t specify what. I was just going to make sure you had a clean cell to sleep in.”


	11. Chapter 11

> _3\. if you don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?  
>  7\. we’re in the middle of the street!_

“Fuck!” you hissed, twisting around and swatting at his hand. “Digger! Cut it out! We’re in the middle of the street!” You pointed a finger at him, prodding his broad chest trying to look intimidating though you stood nearly a foot shorter than him. “If you don’t quit grabbing my ass, I’m gonna approach the next cop I see.”

“Aww, com’on luv, don’t be like that. I’m just trying to have some fun,” he grinned, the light of the sun, low in the sky, glinting off his gold tooth. “I’m bored,” he insisted, stepping in to wrap his arms around you.

“That’s your own damn fault. I’ve been looking forward to this street fair for weeks now. You’re the one who showed up out of the blue last night and then insisted on tagging along today.” You tried to wriggle free from his grasp as you chewed him out, but his arms were locked securely around you, holding you in place with no escape. You bit your lip trying to stifle a small moan as the wide expanse of his palm slid over the seat of your jeans, easily cupping one cheek. “You just pop up and expect me to drop everything and do what you want!”

“And here I thought yeh were into it,” he hummed, his voice low and gravely as his breath tickled your ear. “If yeh don’t like my teasing then why are you moaning?”

You exhaled hard through your nose, using all your willpower to keep from responding as he tensed his fingers, squeezing your flesh.

“How ‘bout this,” he began, still humming in your ear. “We go find somewhere quiet and you suck me off and then I’ll be a good boy and behave myself for the rest of the night.” He quirked his eyebrow as he made the offer, watching your face as you considered the terms.

“Promise?” you finally asked, still giving him a quizzical eye.

“Promise,” he confirmed with a smirk. He could see it in your eyes, the moment you decided to agree.

“Fine then, let’s go.” He easily released you from his arms, letting you grab his wrist and drag him along, leading the way.


	12. Interrupted

“What the fu-uck,” you groaned, letting your head dramatically lull to the side as you dragged out the swear for emphasis. “This is some Scooby-Doo bullshit.”

“I’ve told you,” Flag barked, pointing his finger at you. “You keep this attitude up and I will not hesitate blow your head sky high.” He twisted his forearm to show the small digital screen on his wrist band which flashed the names, faces, and cardiac rhythm of each member on the current mission. You where the newbie this time and though Rick had responded to your sass with threats, he had yet to follow through on any of them. So, you were pretty certain there was a reason he needed to keep you around for now.

“As I said, we are going to split up,” he restated, still glaring at you. “Croc, you’re with me. We’re going up the north wing. Harley and Deadshot, you head to the east wing. Digger, you and little-miss-attitude here, are gunna go west. Everyone understand?”

There was a general affirmation from the group as each member of the task force turned to leave. You stood facing the grimy Aussie with your arms crossed and left hip jutting out, the disdain clear on your face. As much as you’d been annoying Flag all night, Digger had been annoying you. In your gut, you knew this was the leader’s petty revenge for the lip you’d given him.

“Come on Darl’, don’t look so sour, we can have fun,” Digger goaded, lifting his arms out in a way he probably saw as inviting, but only reminded you of a flasher holding his trench coat open.

“You call me _Darl’_ one more time, and I’ll rip your balls off,” you warned, jabbing your finger harshly into his chest.

“Ya saying you wanna touch my sack?” he replied with a grin as he wiggled his eyebrows and you scoffed, quickly pivoting on your heel to storm off.

“Aw come on, luv,” Digger called, his boots slapping on the tile as he took a few long strides to catch up. “I like yah, I’m just trying ta be yer friend.”

“I don’t need friends,” you snapped, keeping your eyes forward, ignoring the way he walked alongside you before he stepped forward into your path so you collided with his chest.

“We could be more than friends, if you want,” he offered, that infernal smirk still plastered on his face as his hands came to rest on your hips. “You seem ta’ be wound pretty tight luv, when’s the last time you came?” His blunt question took you by surprise so much you hadn’t even noticed that he’d pinned you to the wall until you were pressed between the concrete and his chest.

“What are you--” you cut yourself off with a gasp as his warm lips latched on to your neck, his overgrown mutton chops scratching your jaw and shoulder. He shifted his hips, shoving one of his thick thighs between both of yours, crashing into your vulva through the denim of your pants as his hands drifted to rest on your ass. Digger dug his fingers into the flesh of your bottom as he dragged your hips closer to his, forcing you to grind against his leg as his teeth left bruising bites that trailed up your carotid artery.

“Oh fuck, Digger,” you hissed in his ear as you dragged your fingers through the hair on the back of his head, tugging at his roots every time you rutted against him. The pair of you were so enthralled with each other’s body that neither noticed the clamor of sprinting footsteps making their way down the hall towards you.

“The FUCK are you two doing?” Flag barked, catching his breath as he scowled at the sight of you and Digger entwined.

“The fuck do you care?” Digger snapped back, obviously annoyed at the intrusion. He returned the soldier's bitter stare while still keeping you propped up on his leg and caged against the wall, showing no inclination to free you from the compromising position.

“I can see your heart rates on my monitor.” Flag rolled his eyes before pinching the bridge of his nose. “When both of yours spiked I thought you were under attack, not making out like horny teenagers.” He groaned again as his mind raced trying to think of the next best move. “Ok,” he started, “We’re switching partners. You, you’re with me, and Digger you’re going with Croc. Now, back to work!”

Digger was not happy at the change of events, and to be honest neither were you. You’d be an idiot to admit you didn’t like having his large frame holding you to the wall as he made your body move how he pleased, but now you had to follow around the stuck up soldier.

“We’ll get back to this latah,” Digger promised, whispering quickly in your ear before pulling away. Hurrying up after Flag you peaked back over your shoulder and shared a grin with Digger who was also watching you.


End file.
